ery night."

"O, what duz make fo'ks git so mad with ech other?" said Mam' Sarah. "It
will all cum rite, if they'll only hol' back en trust God."

Just before tea, Roberta ran down to uncle Squire's cabin, on the hill
back of the spring-house. She told him she had a secret for his ears
alone, made him look under the bed, the cup-board, chairs, and every
place, to be sure there were no eaves-droppers. Then she sat down on a
stool and slided it along towards him. He edged his chair a little closer
towards her, so by the time she began her communication their heads almost
touched. It was comical to see the old man's various facial expressions
while the child talked. He would squint his eyes like he was trying to
sight something away ahead of him, puffed out his cheeks till they
resembled an inflated bellows. Finally, slapped his thigh vigorously,
blurting out, "You iz er sharp one, Lil Misus, you won' never 'go fru er
thicket en pick up er 'oop-pole', he-he-he."

"Can you manage it for me, Uncle Squire?" asked the child anxiously.

"Ob cose I kin, Lil Misus, ob cose I kin. Squire's your man."

"O, you dear, good, Uncle Squire," cried the delighted child. "I feel like
hugging you."

The old man twisted around in his seat and went through his facial
pantomimes again, pretty much on the principle of a dog wagging his tail
when he is fed.

Roberta was feeding him with the daintiest of food, the nectar of the gods
to all of us, old and young, high and low.

Although it was July, there was a bed of glowing embers on the stone
hearth, where Uncle Squire was cooking his supper. He liked the
independence of it. A pot of steaming coffee stood close beside the fire,
slices of middling meat were broiling on the coals, and an ash cake slowly
browning. He nodded his head toward them, on hospitable thoughts intent.

"Iz you hongry, Lil Missus?"

"Well, I believe I am, rather, Uncle Squire, and your supper looks nice,
but I think I will save myself for Aunt Judy's waffles. I took her a
basketful of fresh eggs, and she promised me some waffles and scrambled
eggs. You know I adore waffles and scrambled eggs, Uncle Squire."

Suddenly the child burst into a ringing peal of laughter. Something very
funny was evidently suggested by the eggs.

"O, Uncle Squire," she cried, "did I tell you how I got the best of Jemimy
at last?"

"Iz dat de hen dat's been so bobstreperous, you bin tellen' me erbout, Lil
Missus?"

"The very same, U